Muse of Juilliard
Muse of Juilliard. Mendelssohn’s Lied ohne Worte commentary on YiFei Li’s Recital
My favorite instrumental timbre is undoubtedly the seductive lyrical strokes of the cello. As a violinist, I’ve often been jealous of the lusciously thick baritone sound of the soloing cello. A sound that’s as saturated as the ever-reaching blue of the Pacific intently rising and falling with every bow stroke. Then, with the sudden intensity of lightning striking the cresting waves, the cellist can skillfully arpeggiate his way up the finger board to a strident tenor voice slicing through the chaotic piano accompaniment. Indeed the cello is a vessel of contrast. Not just does it capture the loud and soft. The cello is equally versed at songs of romance as showcasing the impeccable talent of the performer.
It was in the early evening, I find myself with a friend stretching my legs in a performance hall that sat no more than a hundred concert goes although this Thursday evening it was far closer to a private performance for us and perhaps only the most dedicated retired former musicians. In addition, I would be remiss not to mention the group of a dozen college age students laughing loudly in the back corner. Evident by the flowers he brought, the performer’s significant other was part of that cluster of friends. The part of this recital that stood out most to me was the private nature of the experience. There’s something unique in getting to be one of a handful of individuals to hear her live out her passion on stage.
In stark contrast to the other performance spaces along Manhattan’s Broadway, save for maybe Columbia’s Roone Arledge Auditorium, the age of the space clearly showed. There was an oddly compact organ with tubes of all sizes poking up over the wooden stage walls. The lighting fixtures along the entrance clearly held the flickering flame of candles at some point. And although the chairs seemed newly renovated the metal arm rests have definitely been graced by a wholesome many elbows as the elbow’s owners whispered critiques to one another. Carefully curated, the concert hall, by name Paul Hall, was indeed quite fitting for such a performance - a senior recital of carefully chosen repertoire encapsulating the careful craftsmanship and inventive interpretation of an aspiring musician.
She began with the 5th of Bach’s cello suites - an incredible display of talent. I was actually quite excited because although I’ve read about the cello suite and listened to recording, I have never heard a performance of it live. She played for 30 minutes not only uninterrupted and unaccompanied but completely from memory. Indeed in the information age, I’m glad feats of memory have at least found an antique niche in classical music – an art carefully preserved for tasteful viewers. If one was to be critical, she took the creative liberty to perform what is usually a light heel tapping of Baroque Gavotte with the heavy bow strokes and vibratos expected from Brahms Lullaby. Nonetheless, it definitely did not merit a rude exit.
As a finale, her spectacular performance of Mendelssohn’s Lieder ohne Worte (song without words) more than compensates for her creative liberties approaching Bach. In fact, I had not heard of the song until she performed it, and upon perusing Youtube I have yet to find a sufficiently rousing performance anywhere close to the one she gave. In less than a one measure, it became evident why her seat was on stage at Juilliard and mine was a privilege just to belong in the audience. Unlike the Bach, it seemed as if Mendelssohn had composed the piece specifically for her. The passionate ornaments fit her perfectly alongside long held notes from the bellowing low notes to the gentle soaring high ones. Unlike the Bach, which left me feeling impressed, I rose to a standing ovation by the way the piece resonated with me. Compared to a half hour, the piece ended in less than five minutes, yet like a love song, the cellist distilled and communicated an emotion that left me moved.
To end the performance, she played a lyrical composition that reminded me a lot of film music. By that point, I really felt like I had grown acquainted with the cellist’s interpretive style and mode of expression. Quite different than a recording, there a remarkable authenticity and virtuosity exposed when it’s just the audience and the performer. There’s no second take or water break between movements. It was oddly satisfying to know just how talented she was, even if the composition at hand didn’t necessarily showcase her intonation, range, or precision explicitly. With the final note, I felt like a she had brought me on a 3 hour tour of the ocean of talent she calls home. After which, she sail into the sunset, as I’m left with the beautiful the sound of Mendelssohn’s melody in my ears – a souvenir.